


pretty to watch

by betheproof



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Genderswap, Meet-Cute, Rule 63, Strangers to Lovers, listen i have no excuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 23:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheproof/pseuds/betheproof
Summary: In short, Tyler is smitten, which isn’t unusual. Tyler falls for people easily, and pretty hard, too. However, she also has a short attention span, so it usually doesn’t affect her much. But where Tyler is used to cotton-candy crushes, this thing with Jamie is a Werther’s Original — it lasts and lasts.(for the "au: coffee shop/bakery/flower shop" and "genderswap" squares)





	pretty to watch

**Author's Note:**

> well folks, it's happened: i've fallen into a new rpf ship. and this time, it's _sports _. trust me, no one is more shocked than i am.__
> 
> __this here's the first part in a series of ficlets/drabbles/musings i'll be posting throughout the month as part of the october 2k17 bennguin trope bingo! i really hope they won't all be this long, i don't want to commit to that, but this one just kinda... got away from me. i can't help it, i love me some sapphic romcom._ _
> 
> __this is also dedicated to my platonic soulmate[megan](https://shutyoureyesandhum.tumblr.com), whose birthday was yesterday and who kindly accepted this mess instead of a real present this year. (even though it was late. i'm a garbage friend.)_ _
> 
> __
> 
> __title from this[gem of a freudian slip](https://bennyandthestars.tumblr.com/post/109608956655/he-definitely-deserves-it-hes-had-a-great). oh jameson. you're hopeless._ _

It all starts after a bad day at the office.

Tyler only stopped by the town home to change from her work clothes to her exercise clothes, then she headed to the gym in the complex. She's been working out for almost an hour when Brownie shows up.

"Jesus, what did that bag ever do to you?" Brownie asks in lieu of a greeting. Tyler fixes him with a glare.

"Don't make me punch you instead," she says, though they both know Tyler would never actually hurt Brownie. Even so, he throws his arms in front of his face.

"Please! Have mercy!" Brownie wails, ever the dramatic.

Tyler rolls her eyes. "How'd you find me here, anyway?"

"Saw your car in its spot, but you weren't in the house," Brownie says. "Plus, this is where you always come when you're upset."

"Who says I'm upset?" Tyler says, turning away from him to land some more hits on the bag.

"I'm not even gonna grace that with a response," Brownie replies. "But the good news is, I know exactly what'll cheer you up."

Finally stepping back from the bag, Tyler sighs. "What'd you have in mind?"

Brownie grins. "You're gonna want to hit the showers first. You're smelling a little ripe there, Segsy."

Twenty minutes later, Tyler is considerably less sweaty but no less grumpy, especially because Brownie _still_ won't tell her where they're going. To make matters worse, he insisted on walking, and Tyler's already aching muscles are not happy about it.

"Seriously, bro, couldn't we have driven?" she complains for the fifth time.

"It's only like two more blocks, chill out," Brownie says, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Just trust me, okay?"

Tyler doesn't know what kind of expression is on her face, but it must still be pretty grumpy, because  he tugs her in closer. "Look, why don't you just tell me what's bothering you? I know you've been dying to unleash."

Damn _,_ does Brownie have her number. Tyler's just been waiting for the perfect moment to let loose, and with that, she dives in. She tells him all about the _absolute asshole_ who tweeted her today, calling into question her journalistic integrity in front of her nearly 4,000 (well-earned and well-deserved, _thank you very much_ ) followers.

Brownie listens attentively, nodding in all the right places and threatening the guy's life with the appropriate vehemence, which Tyler appreciates. She continues her rant all throughout their walk, and continues even once they enter a small but quaint bakery that is apparently their intended destination. She's a little surprised — Brownie's something of a health and fitness nut, and he's been known to eye Tyler's multiple ice cream cartons with judgment — but she's too engrossed in her tirade to comment.

"And it's such fucking _bullshit_ because he's not even a real fucking _journalist_ !" Tyler's not shouting, because they're inside now, but it's a near thing. "I'm the one who went to school for this, I'm the one out here busting my _ass_ to provide good content and to prove that women actually _can_ be fucking sports writers, and _really good ones_ at that! But _god forbid_ we respect writers for their actual talents! No, let's just judge them solely on things like _gender_ , which, by the way, is a social—"

"Social construct, yeah, I know, bud," Brownie says. There's a quirk to his mouth that betrays amusement, but Tyler chooses to ignore it.

"Exactly. A social fucking construct." Tyler pauses to catch her breath, tugging at the bun she'd thrown her mess of hair into after showering at the gym. "It just… pisses me off because he knows who I am, we cover the same damn team — even though he's not a professional but whatever, that's a tangent — so it's like. Why you gotta shade me like that, bruh? We _know_ each other. We're gonna see each other the next day at practice! Don't you realize this is a small fucking market? Why would you ever burn a bridge like that, it's just idiotic, I don't—"

And there's more to that thought, Tyler knows there is, but all of a sudden, she forgets every bit of it.

Because she's just glanced up at the counter and there's… there's a girl there.

She looks about Tyler's height and age, maybe a little taller and older. Her dark hair is tied back and hidden by a snapback, freeing up the view of her face. The features are almost too big for it, especially those doe eyes, but somehow Tyler is charmed rather than put off. The girl is helping the only other customer in the bakery; Tyler is close enough to hear  her confirm the person's order in a soft, sweet voice. She rings the customer up with a polite smile, and Tyler nearly dies when she sees a hint of dimple.

And look, Tyler is no stranger to beautiful women. Beautiful people, even. Being around people whose job it is to keep their bodies in peak condition sort of numbs you to the whole "beautiful people" thing. Besides, Tyler's been a sports reporter for four years, but she's a flirt for much longer, which means she hasn't been flustered by anyone since she was about fifteen.

So why, all of a sudden, is she unable to form coherent thoughts?

"Yo, Segs!" comes Brownie's voice. "You wanna quit staring, maybe?"

Tyler blinks hard, then turns to her idiot best friend. "You wanna not blow my cover, maybe?" she hisses, glancing to make sure Counter Girl (Tyler is too far away to read her nametag) didn't hear anything.

Brownie snickers. "I dunno, man, you probably did that all yourself." He points at her chin. "Seriously, I think you're drooling."

"Fuck off," Tyler says, almost ninety percent sure he's messing with her. Even so, she quickly swipes at it, just in case. She can practically hear Brownie smirking. She's about to shove him when she hears, "Can I help whoever's next?"

There's no one else waiting except them, so Tyler isn't sure if Counter Girl's phrasing is just standard counter etiquette or if she's chirping them for not approaching right away. As she drags Brownie up so they can order, Tyler sees that Counter Girl's eyebrow is slightly raised even as she gives them that polite smile. Which means she's _totally_ chirping them, and oh, it is _on._

"Hi, there," Tyler starts, batting her lashes ever so slightly. Finally getting a glance at her name tag, Tyler tacks on, " _Jamie._ That's a pretty name."

Under Tyler's gaze, Jamie seems to lose the edge she had a moment ago. "Uh, th-thanks," she says. "My grandma picked it out." Her eyes widen. "I mean—that was so lame, oh my god, I don't know why I said that—"

"So your grandma didn't pick it out?" Tyler interrupts, teasing.

"No, she did!" Jamie says. "I just… don't know why I told you that, it just kinda… umm. It just kinda popped out? I mean." Even as her tone seems panicked, her blinking is slow, and now Tyler can see the exact color of her eyes. Brown like her own, but deeper. Warmer, somehow. "I meant to just say thanks," Jamie is saying, "but uh…"

Tyler finally takes pity on her. "Don't worry about it," she says, barely suppressing the urge to lay a hand on Jamie's shoulder. "I thought it was cute."

Jamie blushes, and impossibly, Tyler finds her even cuter for it. She's about to say so when Jamie clears her throat. "Wh-what can I get for you guys tonight?"

Brownie jumps in. "I'll take a blueberry muffin, please," he says, "and my girl here has never been here before. Maybe you could point her in the right direction?" He tries to throw his arm back around Tyler's shoulders, but she ducks out of it. As far as she's concerned, he's still on thin ice for almost making her look like a fool in front of her newest crush. She shoves him away like she meant to earlier, playful yet with enough oomph that he will know she's punishing him.

Jamie watches the exchange, brows now furrowed, and no, that's the opposite of what Tyler wants, so she jumps back into action.

"What would you recommend for someone who's had a very long day and needs some good old-fashioned sugary comfort?"

"Oh," Jamie says, seemingly slipping back into business mode, "well, the macarons are really popular? But um, my favorite are the butter tarts." She points out a tray near the end of the glass display case, and Tyler suddenly loses all sense of chill.

"You have butter tarts?!"

"Uh, yeah," Jamie says. "They remind me of home, so I like to make them…"

"You _make_ them?!" Up until now, Tyler thought Jamie just worked the front of the store, but now that Jamie's said that, she notices that there's flour on Jamie's uniform t-shirt and even some clinging to the hair that's come loose from her braid. Then Tyler registers the accent she's just picked up on, and the word _home._ "Wait. You're Canadian?"

"…Yes?" Jamie seems really thrown by Tyler's rapid-fire questions. But Tyler is just excited, okay, she hasn't had a butter tart in _ages,_ not since the last time she made it back home for Thanksgiving. The real one, in October.

"Well, then, that's gotta mean you make them right," Tyler says, "which means I'll take two, please."

"Uh, sure," Jamie says, still looking somewhat uncertain. "Would you guys like your pastries warmed up?"

"Yes, please," Brownie says, throwing a look Tyler's way that clearly means _chill_. Which, like, has he met Tyler? Still, she lets Brownie take over, and as Jamie hands him some change, she sees that Jamie's forearms are incredibly built (from kneading dough, no doubt) and tattooed all over. Tyler kind of wants to lick them.

"Thank you very much," Jamie says as she wraps up the transaction. "Can I get your name so I can call you when your order's ready?"

"Tyler," she says at the same time Brownie does, then automatically high-fives him like they always do when this happens. "We have the same name," she offers as explanation. "It's a thing we do, sorry."

"Don't worry about it, I thought it was cute." From the way Jamie looks afterward, Tyler can tell she again said something she didn't mean to, but the chirpy quality from before, which makes Tyler grin.

"Babe, I'm always cute," Tyler says, throwing in a wink for good measure. She figures that's enough flirting for now—gotta leave 'em wanting more, after all—so she goes off after Brownie, who went to grab a table somewhere in the middle of her exchange with Jamie.

She finds him by the window and slides into the chair opposite him.

"Are you done harassing the poor baker girl?" Brownie says, sounding judgey, but Tyler waves him off.

"It's not harassing if she likes it," Tyler says, "and trust me, she liked it."

"You're a customer," Brownie points out. "What was she gonna do, tell you to fuck off? And you don't even know if she likes the V!"

Tyler's eyes tilt skyward at that. _Straight boys_. "Did you see her tats? Her backwards hat? She was even wearing Birkenstocks!" Tyler leans back in her chair, satisfied. "She's totally into women."

Now Brownie rolls his eyes. "Whatever, dude. Doesn't mean she's into _you._ "

Tyler scoffs. " _Everyone_ is into me," she says. Brownie quirks a brow. "Okay, except for you," Tyler amends, "but that's only because we're bros. Platonic soulmates. Ride or die."

And _there's_ the grin Tyler loves so much. "You're damn right we are," Brownie shoots back, kicking at her feet, but it's affectionate. Tyler kicks back, and it turns into a minor scuffle until Jamie calls their name.

"Coming!" Tyler pipes up, launching out of her seat and trying to ignore Brownie's murmured "yeah, I'll bet you are." 

She makes her way to the counter and takes the paper bag Jamie's holding out. "Thank you so much," she says.

She keeps it friendly, because even though she knows she was right and Brownie was wrong about Jamie being into Tyler, part of her knows that Brownie _was_ right about not flirting so openly with someone at their workplace. It used to happen to her all the time when she waited tables in college. It didn't always bother her — after all, Tyler always gave as good as she got, and she made a killing in tips. Every now and then, though, she'd get some creeps, and it took everything Tyler had not to punch those people for their advances.

Still, Jamie's smile is shy as she says, "You're welcome," then adds, "I hope it makes your day a little better."

"You know what?" Tyler says, smiling back at Jamie. "Suddenly, this day isn't so bad."

 

 

The second time Tyler visits the bakery, it's evening and nearly empty again, so Tyler seizes the opportunity to get Jamie talking and asks her about the name.

"Oh, uh," Jamie says, stumbling like last time and Tyler struggles not to find it endearing. "It's kind of a hockey reference? You know, like icing the puck. But also, like, pastries have icing on them? So… yeah. Icing on the Cake."

"Clever," Tyler says, trying not to snicker at how awkward that explanation was. Jamie beams, and Tyler mentally pats herself on the back. "So you like hockey, huh? Does that mean you're a Stars fan?"

Jamie snorts, though Tyler doesn't quite get the joke. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I like the Stars."

And this is it, this is Tyler's in. She doesn't always boast about her job, she's not that much of an asshole, but when it'll get her attention from a hot girl? Tyler will do just about anything.

"Y'know, I've actually met the team," Tyler begins, waiting for Jamie's reaction, hoping she's impressed and not completely turned off by Tyler’s humble brag.

"I know," Jamie says, then immediately turns bright red.

Tyler is taken aback. "You know?" she asks, incredulous. "What do you mean, you _know?"_

"I, uh, follow you on Twitter?" Jamie has this habit, Tyler is noticing, of turning statements into questions whenever she's nervous.  "I read all your stories. I'm… kind of a fan of yours. Plus, Jordie told me the first time you were in the press room, they don't get a lot of female reporters in hockey—"

"Wait," Tyler says, reeling from the sudden information, especially that a girl she finds attractive is a _fan_ of her _writing_. But it's the last part that Tyler most latches onto. "Jordie? As in… Jordie _Benn_?"

"Oh," Jamie says. Her face gets even redder. "Um, yeah. He's—he's my brother."

Tyler blinks.

"Your brother is Jordie Benn," she gets out. "Defenseman for the Stars. The NHL Dallas Stars. _That_ Jordie Benn? He's your brother?"

Jamie's hair is in a french braid today, no hat, and she starts tugging at it the longer Tyler talks. "Um. Yes?"

"Holy shit," Tyler says after a beat. "This really is a small fucking world, isn't it?" She of course knew Jordie Benn had sisters — she follows all the players on social media, always on the lookout for a story — and it's even possible that, somewhere along the line, Tyler has seen a picture of Jamie.

But Tyler sees a lot of faces in her line of work, and she tends to forget a lot of the ones she doesn't see every day. Usually those faces aren't as pretty as Jamie's, but maybe the universe is giving her another chance by putting Jamie on her path? As a way to say, _hey, pay attention this time, this girl could really be someone to you_?

(Alright, that last thought is a little much, but come on. Tyler may act like a fuckboy, but she's a romantic at heart.)

Jamie puts the final touches on Tyler's latte, then pushes the mug toward Tyler, along with the scone she also ordered. "Yeah," she agrees, "small world for sure." She's still a little flushed, and Tyler is struck equal desires to kiss her cheek and to see just how far down that blush goes.

It isn't until Tyler sits down that she sees there's a design in her foam: a five-pointed star, with a cursive _T_ drawn in the middle. Tyler's heart skips a little. Without thinking too much about it, she whips out her phone and snaps a shot. Once she picks the perfect filter, she posts it.

_new favorite place to get something sweet. thanks, @icingonthecake! #treatyoself_

Part of her expects Jamie to respond right away, at least by pulling out her phone and maybe smiling at Tyler, but when she doesn't, Tyler tells herself to not be too disappointed. After all, Jamie is working, and Tyler doesn't even know for sure if it's Jamie who runs the bakery's social media accounts.

She does get a, "Have a good night, Tyler!" when she leaves, which she takes as encouragement. Tyler throws a peace sign at Jamie, paired with a crooked smile she's maybe practiced in the mirror to ensure maximum impact.

Later that night, Tyler is on the couch in a cuddle pile with Brownie and the dogs. They're watching _How to Get Away With Murder,_ but it's on commercial, so she gets on social media. She already has 52 likes on Instagram — _nice,_ she thinks — and as she scrolls curiously through to see who each like is from, she notices a few particularly interesting notifications. 

> **_icingonthecake_ ** _liked your post._
> 
> **_icingonthecake_ ** _commented: glad you liked it! come back soon ☆_
> 
> **_jamiebenn14_ ** _started following you._

Tyler may or may not squeal.

"What?" Brownie says lazily, not looking up from his own phone. "Did someone post a cute puppy?"

"Hot Jamie from the bakery followed me on Instagram," Tyler practically sings.

"Neat," Brownie deadpans back. "When's the wedding?"

"And just like that, you're uninvited," Tyler says primly. Brownie merely grunts, so Tyler busies herself checking out Jamie's profile. There's a lot of baking shots, and a few pictures of Jamie's tattoos. (Tyler tries not to squeal again.) Most of the pictures that Jamie posts of herself are with other people, including her brother, but there are a few selfies that Tyler lingers over.

"Hey, the show's back!" Brownie says suddenly. "Quit your stalkin', it's _Murder_ time!"

"Fine, fine," Tyler grumbles and puts her phone away, but not before she follows Jamie back. She makes a mental note to find her profile on Twitter later, too, then scratches at Gerry's head as she tunes back into the show.

 

 

 

After that, Tyler finds every excuse to go to the bakery.

First, she starts getting her morning coffee at Icing on the Cake, but once she realizes that Jamie is usually in the back for the first half of the day, Tyler starts swinging by after work. Because the bakery is usually quiet in the evenings, she even starts bringing her laptop and writing some of her stories in what becomes her regular table by the window. This isn't always productive, because she always ends up distracted.

Tyler tries not to watch Jamie too much, doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, but god, it's hard to look away. Jamie is just so… pretty. Even if not traditionally so. Tyler herself favors the slightly-androgynous-but-feminine-leaning look, and though she’ll rock a winged eyeliner every now and then, she keeps her makeup pretty natural.

Jamie, though, appears to be completely natural. She doesn’t even seem to wear mascara — her eyelashes just _look_ like that. She’s pretty terrible at talking, but her mouth is just so nice to look at that Tyler doesn’t mind, just stares at her naturally-red lips and tries not to sweat.

Every time Tyler runs into Jamie, she lays on the charm. And every time, Jamie looks less and less flustered. She even starts rising to the occasion, meeting Tyler's outrageous flirting with good-natured teasing and awful jokes. Tyler learns the sound of Jamie's laugh, and she wants to curl up in it.

Once, Tyler is running her hand through her hair like she always does when Jamie shakes her head.

"You should just cut it," she tells Tyler. "Then maybe you'd stop messing with it."

"What? You don't like it when I mess with my hair?" Tyler says, tossing her head so her waves are even more tousled. "I've been told by several people that this is sexy. You don't think this is sexy?"

On cue, Jamie stutters. "Uh—I mean, I—"

 _Oh, sweetheart,_ Tyler thinks, _you still haven't learned, have you?_ Out loud, she says, "Besides, I don't really think I could pull off short hair." Tyler privately thinks she could, actually, but then she’d have to give up her top vanity, so it’s more like she doesn’t _want_ to pull off short hair.

"I think you could," Jamie supplies. She doesn't even stumble that time and, even more miraculously, she doesn't blush.

 _Alright, I stand corrected,_ Tyler thinks. _Time to kick it up a notch._

"Actually," Tyler says, before leaning on the counter and closer to Jamie. “I think _you_ could.”

And just like that, Jamie turns red. _Bingo._

“You think so?” Jamie says, tugging at her customary braid. “I dunno… I’ve just always had it long. I mean. I’ve thought about it, but… you really think it would look okay?”

Tyler smirks. “Yeah, definitely,” and she’s obviously flirting, but she actually means it.

Jamie is gorgeous, of course, but a shorter cut would bring out her cheekbones, give her more of a jawline. She has that soft butch look already, with the backward hats and the baggy fit to all her uniform tees, but the short hair would really bring her over the top. Tyler would definitely have competition then.

She feels a stab of jealousy at the thought, which is sort of ridiculous. It’s not like Jamie’s _hers_ or anything, even if they have been dancing on the edge of something for a few weeks now.

“You should cut it,” Tyler says, then realizes that sounds like a command and backtracks. “I mean, only if _you_ want to. But yeah. I really think it would look good.”

This seems to please Jamie, because she smiles that soft way she has whenever Tyler says something particularly sweet. “Alright. I’ll think about it, I guess.”

 

 

 

After one too many Instagram stories tagged with the Icing on the Cake geofilter, Tyler’s friend and co-worker Rous confronts her about the whole thing.

“What’s the deal, Seguin?” she says. “Either those pastries have crack in them, or you’ve got your eye on someone at that bakery.” She says it jokingly, but Tyler bites her lip. She’s been driving Brownie crazy with all her talk of her embarrassing crush. Maybe it would help to talk to another girl about it.

“Her name’s Jamie,” Tyler admits, then spills the whole thing. By the time she’s done, Rous is nearly cackling.

“You useless bisexual,” she says, wiping at her eyes. Her soft French accent makes it sound less harsh and more playful. “You’ve got it _bad._ ”

“I fucking _know,_ ” Tyler groans, sprawling back in her desk chair. “What do I do? I keep hitting on her and sometimes I think she reciprocates, but we’re at, like. A standstill. It’s torture.”

Rous looks at her curiously. “This is weird, y’know,” she says. “You don’t normally wait this long to make a move.”

Tyler shrugs. “The long game can be fun. Plus,” she says, and she feels stupid admitting it, but it’s _true_ , okay, and she needs to tell someone other than Brownie. “I dunno, there’s something about this girl. She’s just… she’s different.”

“Different, huh?” Rous wiggles her eyebrows. “You gotta take me there next time you go. I need to see this girl who’s making you risk your hot body.”

“Fuck off, these abs are made of steel,” Tyler retorts, but if she hits it hard at the gym later, no one needs to know.

 

 

 

That Saturday, she does take Rous, because she knows that’s the only time Jamie works the counter for the morning shift. The day Tyler learned that, she caught Jamie all rumpled and bleary-eyed, looking far too adorable in a grey beanie, so maybe she’s hoping for a glimpse of that again.

As they enter the bakery, Tyler takes in the crowd. She doesn’t like coming in at this hour, knows it’s always busy, and besides, she hates getting up before noon on a weekend, but it was the only time Rous was free, so she bit the bullet. They’re just getting in line when Tyler hears a familiar voice behind them.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Tyler Seguin at the local joint.”

Tyler turns and sees none other than Jordie Benn. She grins. He’s always been really friendly at practice and in scrums, and they have a good rapport. It’s always a little weird running into athletes in her everyday life, but now that Tyler knows Jamie, she doesn’t feel as awkward about it.

“Hey there, number 24,” she says. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You here to chat up my sister some more?” Jordie asks, obviously going for the protective older brother bit, but falling a bit short when Tyler sees his mouth curving behind that bushy beard.

“Actually, I’m here for the delicious butter tarts. Your sister just happens to be a perk.” Tyler manages to keep it cool, but she’s dying to pick apart Jordie’s comment. Has Jamie been talking about her? And if so, what does that mean?

Unfortunately, Jordie doesn’t add anything else, turning instead toward Rous. “Hi, I’m Jordie Benn,” he says, sticking out a hand.

“I know,” she says, accepting the shake. “I’m Antoinette Roussel, but everyone just calls me Rous. I work with Tyler at the Morning News.”

“Rooster covers high school football,” Tyler offers, to which Jordie responds with interest. He and Rous start a discussion about football, which Tyler mostly tunes out. As a sports reporter, she has working knowledge of all the major sports, but her true love is hockey. Anything else, she kind of hates discussing outside of work.

There’s quite a few people in front of them, so Tyler doesn’t notice at first. But when they’re almost to the front, she stops. Because Jamie…

Jamie cut her hair.

It’s exactly like Tyler pictured when they discussed it: longer on top with the sides shaved. A perfect undercut. There’s even some product in it. Maybe a little too much, if Tyler’s being honest, but it looks shiny with that messed-up look that’s obviously calculated but still looks sexy as hell.

Tyler is _fucked._

As her brain practically short-circuits, Jamie finishes up with the customer in front of them, then sees their group of three is next. Jamie brightens at that.

She greets her brother first with a chirpy, “Hey Jord, nice to see you drag yourself out of bed on your day off.”

“Fuck you, Chubbs,” Jordie says good-naturedly, “see if I ever visit you at work again.”

Instead of answering, Jamie turns to Tyler. “Hey, Ty!” she says, and Tyler’s heart lurches at the nickname. “You don’t normally come in this early. How are you this morning?”

“You cut your hair,” Tyler blurts out. She’s too shocked to even feel embarrassed. Jamie, however, clearly feels embarrassed, because she ducks her now-red face and runs her fingers through her newly-shorn hair.

“Oh, yeah,” she says through a weak chuckle. “A couple days ago. I’m still getting used to it.”

Once again, Tyler’s mouth is taken over by word vomit. “Did you do that because of me?”

This makes Jordie laugh, for some reason. “Oh my god. This was your idea? I should’ve known, Jamie would never do something so impulsive on her own.”

“Shut up, Jordie,” Jamie hisses. “And um. I didn’t do it because of you?” she says, obviously talking to Tyler, but refusing to meet her in the eye. “I… like I said the other day, I had thought about it. But um, I guess I just needed the push?”

Something like hope soars in Tyler’s chest. “Well, I think you look hot as fuck.” It comes out less flirty and more honest, but maybe that’s a good thing. She doesn’t want Jamie to think for one second that she doesn’t mean what she’s saying.

Jamie finally looks up, blinking at Tyler’s forwardness. “Yeah? You think?”

“Abso _lutely_ ,” Tyler assures her. They stare at each other, for a bit, and for once, Tyler can feel her own cheeks heating up as Jamie chews her lip but looks happy as she meets her gaze.

“Ooookay!” Rous says finally, and Tyler nearly jumps. “Not that this isn’t fun, but I don’t really want to hold the line up, so can we order?” she directs the last part to Tyler, who can only nod even while she keeps her eyes locked on Jamie’s. “Alright,” Rous continues, “can I get a…”

Tyler doesn’t hear the rest, and she is barely conscious of saying her own order. They lose Jordie somewhere in the shuffle, which is probably a good thing, because as soon as they’re out of the Benn siblings’ sight, Rous turns to Tyler and says, “I haven’t ever seen that much eyefucking in real life, and honestly? I’m disgusted. That was gross, you two are actually gross.”

For a split second, Tyler thinks she’s being serious, but then Rous says, “Can I be maid of honor?” and she breathes a sigh of relief.

 

 

 

Life goes on as normal, or at least, as normal as it ever gets for Tyler. Preseason ends and suddenly Tyler is busier than ever, covering the team and even traveling with them sometimes. But whenever she’s in town, and she has the time, she still stops by Jamie’s bakery when she gets the chance.

Things with Jamie have been… different.

Before, Tyler flirted with Jamie mostly to get a rise out of her, but also because of her stupid crush. Now, though, Tyler flirts with intent. The Haircut Incident **™** , as she thinks of it, proved that Jamie, to some extent, cared about Tyler’s opinion. Cared about _Tyler_. Having that kind of attention from someone like Jamie is heady, and normally, that would mean full speed ahead for Tyler.

But Tyler’s learned by now that Jamie isn’t like anyone Tyler’s ever liked before. Jamie can be slow on the uptake, but other times, she can be wicked sharp, and she always makes Tyler laugh. Jamie is an incredible baker and a smart business owner, but she gets bashful if Tyler ever points it out.  Jamie takes a million years to get a sentence out, but Tyler loves almost everything she has to say.

In short, Tyler is smitten, which isn’t unusual. Tyler falls for people easily, and pretty hard, too. However, she also has a short attention span, so it usually doesn’t affect her much. But where Tyler is used to cotton-candy crushes, this thing with Jamie is a Werther’s Original — it lasts and lasts.

It all comes to a head, anyway, at the beginning of February. The team has a few days off, which means Tyler finally has some time to herself. That Monday night, Tyler waltzes into Icing on the Cake with an actual purpose.

"Alright, Jameson," Tyler starts, "get the order form. I got a special request for you."

Jamie's laugh is bright. "Alright, Ty," she says, lovely brown eyes sparkling. "What can I getcha?"

"Vanilla cake with vanilla icing. Eight-inch round. I need it for next Wednesday."

Jamie laughs again. "That's maybe the most boring thing you've ever ordered," she teases.

"You're right, there's no accounting for Brownie's taste," Tyler says. "But he's the birthday boy, so his wish is my command."

"Brownie?"

"The guy I came in with the first time I was here," Tyler explains. "We live together."

For some reason, Jamie stiffens at that. "Oh, I kinda—forgot about him. You don't talk about him."

Is it just her imagination, or does Jamie sound distant all of a sudden? "Yeah, guess I don't," Tyler agrees, confused but rolling with it. "But why would I talk about him when I can talk about me?" And normally, that would get at least a chuckle out of Jamie, but all Tyler gets is almost a grimace.

"Anything else you want?" she asks, all business. "Any message in the frosting or…?"

"Just write, 'Happy One Year Closer to Death. Love You, Bitch.'" Tyler frowns, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "Is there enough room for that?"

"I'll make it work," Jamie says, scribbling down what Tyler said but still not cracking a smile. Tyler wants to whine, _c'mon, dude, where's my dimple,_ but something about the set of Jamie's shoulders makes her pause. Maybe Jamie's upset about something? Tyler immediately goes into caretaker mode.

"Hey, is everything okay, Jame?"

Jamie's lashes flutter rapidly. "Yeah, everything's—everything's fine. Can I just… Can I get your phone number? So we can call you when it's ready to be picked up."

"Sure," Tyler says, now feeling a tad alarmed. Jamie is clearly not fine, but she just as clearly doesn't want to tell Tyler about it. Her heart sinks. Weren't they friends by now? Why is Jamie suddenly acting like a stranger? And why won't she look at Tyler?

Once Tyler is done dictating her number, Jamie nods. "Okay, that's… all I need. Now, I have to get to the back, but if you want anything else, Hillary here will take care of you. Okay?" And with that, Jamie turns and is gone before Tyler can even respond.

Hilary, one of the cashiers Tyler has grown familiar with, asks, "So what can I get you? The usual?"

"Uh," Tyler starts. "Actually… nothing. Thank you. I'm gonna—I'm gonna go." She turns toward the door, then looks back at Hillary. "When you see Jamie, will you tell her I said bye?"

"Sure thing, chicken wing," Hillary says. Tyler mumbles her thanks, then heads out toward home.

 

 

 

For the next few days, every time Tyler is at the bakery, Jamie is mysteriously not around.

At first, Tyler thinks it's coincidence — maybe she changed her work hours around and forgot to tell Tyler — but then on Friday she walks in and catches Jamie by the counter. When they lock eyes, Jamie says something to the other guy in front and then disappears through the door to the baking room.

That's when it hits Tyler: Jamie is _actively_ avoiding her.

The only question is… why? Nothing about their last exchange should have scared Jamie off. Tyler hadn't even really flirted with her. Sure, there was that weirdness at the end, but she'd written that off as Jamie having a bad day.

But now, Tyler is at a loss. She orders her usual latte and goes for a croissant this time, but she takes it to go. If Jamie doesn't want to talk to her, what's the point of sticking around?

She talks to Brownie about it when she gets home, feeling mopey and turning to the dogs for comfort. Gerry and Cash try to get her to play, but Marshall senses her mood and just lays his head in her lap. He's her first child; he's always understood her best.

"I don't know what to do, Brownie," Tyler says, trying not to whine but probably failing. "I really like this girl, and I thought we were _finally_ getting somewhere, but now she won't even talk to me."

Brownie scratches Cash's belly thoughtfully. Then he whips his head toward her. "Tell me again what you said when she asked who I was?"

"That we lived together."

Brownie snaps his fingers. "That's it! That's gotta be it."

"What are you talking about?" Tyler grumbles. "What's it?"

"Seggy," Brownie laughs, "you are really smart and talented and I love you, but you can be so stupid sometimes."

"Um, fuck you very much," Tyler says, aiming a pillow at Brownie's head but missing and hitting Cash instead. "Oh my god, honey, I'm _so_ sorry!" Tyler moves Marshall's head out of her lap so she can launch herself at Cash, who looks disgruntled but allows Tyler to pepper him with kisses in apology.

"Case in point," Brownie provides unhelpfully, and Tyler shoots him a glare.

"Just tell me what I did to screw things up with Jamie so I can fix it and stop being _miserable_."

"Drama queen," Brownie says, not without fondness. "She thinks we're dating, Seggy."

" _What?_ " Tyler cries incredulously. "Why would she think that?!"

"Because you made it sound like we are!" Brownie shouts back. "Think about it: you order a cake and ask for a personalized message, then you say it's for the guy you live with. As much as you flirt with this girl, you haven't actually come out to her, so she doesn't actually know your flirting is real. Plus, she saw us together that one time! And you know how we are. You know how that looks to people. Everyone always assumes that we're a couple."

"Which is heteronormative bullshit," Tyler says automatically. Then Brownie's words sink in. "But… I never said you were my boyfriend."

"You never said I _wasn't,"_ Brownie points out, and _fuck._ He's right. Tyler knows he's right.

"Well, then, how do I fix it?"

Brownie shrugs. "I dunno, just tell her the truth the next time you see her."

And that's exactly what Tyler resolves to do. Except that Jamie _keeps avoiding her._

Tyler is beginning to think someone is acting as her lookout and tells her when Tyler is approaching the shop. With every passing day, she gets more frustrated. She supposes she could DM Jamie and explain everything, but she thinks face-to-face would be best for something like this.

But when Tuesday rolls around and Tyler doesn't catch Jamie on her latte run, she starts to get desperate. The next morning, when she gets the call from an unknown employee that Brownie's cake is ready to be picked up, Tyler pounces.

"What time does your boss work today?" she asks, with as much authority as she can muster.

"Jamie? Uh, I think her shift starts at noon, but she's usually here by 11:30ish—"

"Perfect," Tyler says, "I'll be by to pick up my order then."

Tyler makes it to Icing on the Cake at 11:20 on the dot, hoping that if she's early, she can catch Jamie on her way in. That way, Jamie really can't avoid her.

Tyler is hoping to loiter until she sees Jamie, but unfortunately, she has her employees trained well and Hilary, who's working the counter, asks Tyler politely how she can help her. Sighing, Tyler says she's there to pick up an order, and Hillary nods before disappearing in the back to retrieve Tyler's cake. As she returns to the front with a white box tied up with a bow, the bell from the front door jingles, and Tyler turns to see…

Jamie.

It's been about a week, and Tyler's gone longer without seeing her before, but _god_ , is she a sight for sore eyes. Tyler nearly forgot how good Jamie looked in those jeans, and apparently she changes into her uniform onsite, because she's wearing a faded flannel under her coat, and of course, her customary snapback, only it's facing forward today to reveal the Stars logo. Tyler almost dies on the spot.

As relieved as Tyler feels, Jamie looks downright startled. "Ty," she lets out, then clears her throat. "I mean, Tyler, I—I didn't know you'd be here right now."

"I'm here to pick up my order," Tyler replies, gesturing behind her in the general direction of the counter.

"Yeah, I know," Jamie says, "but you usually work at this hour."

"I took the day off," Tyler explains, "for Brownie's birthday."

"Oh," Jamie says, deflating. "Right."

And that— that just won't do. "He's not my boyfriend!" Tyler finds herself shouting out, then winces. The bakery isn't crowded, really, but they're certainly not the only ones in here, which is not what Tyler is used to.

"Sorry?" Jamie says, head tilted and forehead scrunched like a confused puppy. Her voice is so British Columbia in that moment, and Tyler has _missed_ it, okay, has missed the sound of it and has missed Jamie in general, so she thinks she's justified in getting a little silly over it.

Then she remembers Jamie's waiting for an answer.

"I—Brownie. He's not my boyfriend. We just live together. He's my best friend and I love him, but I don't want to suck his dick. Not because I don't like sucking dick, because I do sometimes, but because it's _Brownie._ Gross."

"O…kay?" Jamie says, still sounding confused, and Tyler realizes what she just said.

"I don't just like sucking dick!" she cries out, and oh god, this is a disaster. But once Tyler's started something, it’s hard to stop. “What I mean is, I don't just like guys. I'm bi—I never mentioned that, did I? I probably should've, but I thought you'd figured that one out? But maybe you hadn't. So let me just clarify that I like all genders. Including girls. I mean, lately… lately just one girl." Tyler runs her hands through her hair. "Lately, just you."

Jesus, that's probably the least smooth Tyler has ever been in her _life_ , can the ground just swallow her up already?

Jamie, meanwhile, takes a step forward. "You… you like girls?" She sounds uncertain, like Tyler's monologue confounded her on the deepest level, and Tyler can't really blame her, so she just nods. Jamie takes another step. "And you like… _me_?" She sounds even less certain this time, but Tyler nods vehemently.

"Yes," she nearly whispers, and then, because she may as well put all her cards on the table, "I like you a _lot._ "

"Oh."

The word punches out of Jamie, almost an exhale. They stare at each other for a moment.

"Hey, boss?" Hilary calls from behind Tyler, and they both whip around at the sound of it. "Your shift doesn't start for another 35 minutes. You wanna maybe take this party somewhere more private?" Hilary glances meaningfully around the bakery, and suddenly Tyler realizes they've gained a bit of an audience.

Jamie must realize this at the same time, because she places a gentle hand on Tyler's elbow. "There's a park across the street," she says. "You want to take a walk with me?"

Wordlessly, Tyler nods, and the two of them make their way out of the shop and to the aforementioned park. Tyler's walked its paths before, sipped at her coffee from Jamie's and munched at whatever pastry she'd chosen that day. But she's never walked these paths with someone else, least of all with Jamie.

They walk in silence for a bit, and it's not uncomfortable, really, but it's charged with… something. Jamie leads them to a somewhat secluded patch of trees just past the park's entrance, and after leaning against the nearest tree, Tyler speaks up.

"Listen, if you don't like me back, just tell me," Tyler says. "I was pretty sure you did, and that you stopped wanting to see me because you thought I had a boyfriend and you thought I'd been leading you on or—or you were jealous or whatever, but you haven't even said anything about it, so maybe you don't like me? Just tell me so I can stop going crazy, please? I'll leave you alone if you want, I'll never come back to your bakery again, just—"

"Shh," Jamie finally says, pressing a couple fingers lightly against Tyler's lips. "You talk so much. Did you know that?"

"You like it," Tyler says automatically. Jamie's fingers are still on her mouth, so it comes out muffled.

Thankfully, Jamie laughs. "Weirdly enough, I do." Then Jamie gives her that smile, the one Tyler likes to think is just for her. "Can I kiss you now?"

Tyler means to say, _yes, hell yes, finally,_ but what comes out is, "Please."

Jamie moves her hand from Tyler's lips and replaces them with her own lips, cupping Tyler's face as she does. At first, the kiss is gentle, almost timid, as if Jamie _still_ doesn't get how stupid Tyler is for her. In an attempt to show her, Tyler tucks her arms into Jamie's coat and around her waist like she's been dying to for ages. Jamie makes a noise at that, which in turn makes Tyler sigh and open her mouth slightly. Jamie takes the opportunity to nibble at Tyler's bottom lip, and _fuck_ , this kiss just went from good to _brilliant._

They keep escalating things, slowly but surely, until Jamie seems to forget where they are, because she leans a hand against the tree trunk and slips a thigh in between Tyler's legs. That jolts Tyler back to some semblance of coherence.

"Whoa, slow your roll there, Jameson," she drawls, and immediately, Jamie draws back.

"Fuck, I'm _so_ sorry, I didn't mean to go too far, I—"

"Hey, relax, dude," Tyler placates, grabbing her by the coat. "I just said that because we're in public. Don't wanna get arrested for indecency." She quirks an eyebrow. "Gotta save something for the second date, after all."

Jamie stares at Tyler's mouth, seemingly dazed. "Is this the first?" she asks, and it's a weak chirp, but Tyler's brain isn't at 100 percent either, after that kiss, so she lets it slide.

"Not a date if you don’t buy me dinner," Tyler says, leaning in to run the tip of her nose along the side of Jamie's.

"I'll buy you all the dinners," Jamie murmurs, chasing after Tyler's lips.

"That's sweet of you, babe," Tyler says, "but let's start with just the one."

"I—shut your mouth," Jamie shoots back breathlessly, then shuts Tyler's mouth for her by kissing her again.

Eventually, they will stop kissing. Eventually, Jamie will clock in — late — and Tyler will get her cake. She will leave with Jamie's number in her phone and with plans for their first date that weekend. She and Brownie will celebrate twofold tonight, because it's Brownie's birthday and because Tyler finally got the girl.

But for now, Tyler licks into Jamie's mouth, tasting caramel and sweet, sweet relief.

 

**Author's Note:**

> reblog the [official fic post](http://betheproof.tumblr.com/post/166372090542/pretty-to-watch-a-femslash-bennguin-au-77k) on tumblr if you are so inclined. and follow me while you're there, if you wish :) i post about hockey and a whole mess of other things. come yell at/with me about bennguin!


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